Firestorm
by Ani-maniac494
Summary: The crew of Engine 51 has a close call while fighting a wildfire, and Cap and Mike help each other deal with the aftermath. Cap and Mike friendship. One-Shot.


Spoilers: No spoilers in this one.

Disclaimer: It's not mine, I'm just borrowing the characters. :)

A/N: This is a birthday fic for my friend NatalieGH. She provided the prompt for what was meant to be a drabble, but it wound up as a one-shot instead. :D I hope you enjoy it, Natalie, and that you have an absolutely awesome birthday, filled with family, friends, and all the things you enjoy! :)

As always, I thank my Lord Jesus Christ for his incredible mercy and grace and his many blessings. I would be utterly lost without him.

I hope you enjoy this, and please let me know what you think!

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 **Firestorm**

The conditions were a nightmare: blistering heat, bone-dry vegetation, and brutal wind gusts that drove the on-coming inferno farther and faster. As soon as those tones had sounded, summoning them to the fireline, Hank had known it would be bad. With conditions like that, it couldn't be anything _but_ bad.

He'd braced himself for it and tried to do the same for his men.

But some things…well, some things just blindsided you, no matter what.

Barely half an hour ago - though it seemed longer, somehow - they'd been ordered to the eastern edge of a valley to take down some dead trees. The ridge wasn't far from where they'd been helping to dig a firebreak, so they'd reached it in a few minutes and set to work.

Then, in the blink of an eye, the winds changed and the fire blew up, the flames roaring so loudly that Hank had barely heard the chief on the radio, yelling at them to _get out of there_. The heat had been stifling, and by the time he and the others had finished their desperate sprint for the engine's cab, Hank could have sworn that his jacket was smoldering.

From that point forward, the world had been reduced to shades of red and orange as Mike was forced to maneuver the rig around the burning trees that suddenly lay scattered over the road. A quick look in the rear-view mirror showed that the hillside behind them was now completely engulfed, the flames stretching upwards and outwards, devouring anything that wasn't already on fire.

That's when Hank had realized - they had maybe thirty seconds before those flames reached them too. But, Mike had escaped the burning trees at last, and the rig had lurched forward, speeding down the dirt road, trailing ash and embers in its wake.

Big Red hadn't gotten away completely unscathed, Hank saw now. The paint was scorched in a few places. By the tailboard. The rear wheel well. The hose bed.

Hank released a long breath and ran a hand over his face. It came away black.

Soot. He was covered in it.

It shouldn't have been a surprise, really, since he'd already seen what Chet and Marco looked like. Except for the rings of relatively-clean skin left by the goggles they'd worn, it had been almost impossible to see the difference between Kelly's fair, Irish complexion and Lopez's Latino bronze.

Hank had ordered them to go get checked out as soon as they reached the base camp. (It was as much for their benefit as it was for John and Roy's, since his paramedics had been assigned to the first aid station, and they'd undoubtedly heard about the engine company's near miss.) Hank knew he needed to head that way himself, but he'd wanted to get a look at the engine first. He figured it was a good excuse to check up on Mike as well, because his engineer had disappeared around the other side of the rig almost as soon as they'd stopped moving. Hank was willing to bet that he'd stayed there, too.

And he was right - Stoker came into view the moment Hank stepped around the back of the engine. He was seated on the running board, next to the gauges, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands hanging down limply between his legs, his eyes locked on the ground in front of him.

"Mike?"

The engineer didn't move.

"Mike?"

It wasn't until he drew closer that he realized the other man was trembling, his breaths quick and a little ragged. When Hank finally reached Stoker's side and put a hand on his shoulder, the engineer jumped, his eyes darting up and then away again, his hands curling into fists.

"Sorry, Cap," he apologized. " I…I just…"

He trailed off, swallowing hard, and beneath Hank's hand, the trembling in Mike's muscles became more pronounced.

Mike was never the type to make a scene. Leave it to him to do something like this quietly too.

Hank gave his shoulder a squeeze, then sat down on the running board beside him. He didn't say anything at first, hoping to give Mike a little space if that was what he wanted. Instead, Hank loosened his chinstrap and tugged off his helmet, setting it on the ground in front of him, then he leaned back against the truck, relishing the chill of the cooling metal as it worked its way through the layers of his clothing. It was early in the evening and the temperature was starting to drop. If the winds died down, maybe they'd actually be able to make some progress against the blaze tonight.

Almost without a thought, Hank's eyes drifted back in the direction of the fire, to the massive pillar of smoke that was filling the sky like a murky, billowing ocean.

Mike's gaze followed his.

"It was close," Hank offered aloud.

Mike nodded mutely and Hank waited, the years having taught him that Mike would speak when he was ready to, and not before.

He used the opportunity to study the silent engineer's profile. Mike wasn't quite as soot-covered as the rest of them were, but dark smudges still streaked his face, and his hair stuck up at odd angles in a few places, like he'd raked his hands through it. There was a noticeable tension in his shoulders, the kind Hank wasn't used to seeing in his level-headed second-in-command, but the trembling in his muscles seemed to be slowing as the moments passed. His breathing was beginning to even out too, though Hank could hear a subtle rasp in it - Stoker would probably be spending some quality time with the oxygen later.

"I've had close calls before," Mike said at last, his eyes still focused on the smoke rising from the landscape.

It was Hank's turn to nod - aside from today, Mike hadn't had any near misses while at 51s. But, he'd told Hank a few stories from when he'd been a lineman, and Hank had no doubt that Mike keenly understood the dangers of the job…dangers that engineers weren't exempt from. Sure, the engineer's post had a reputation for being "safest" position in the department, and in a way, it was. More often than not, their duties meant that they stayed by the rig, keeping the equipment running. They weren't the ones heading directly into the flames. But, that didn't mean they were free from any risks at all. The truth was, there was no such thing as a "safe" job for a firefighter, and engineers died too.

Mike could have died right along with them, just thirty minutes ago - though Hank knew him well enough to guess that it wasn't the thought of his own mortality that was bothering him now.

The engineer's next words proved that.

"Close calls I can deal with. But I've never…this was…" Mike blew out a harsh breath and shook his head. "You were depending on me, all of you, and if I'd been just a couple seconds slower-"

"But you weren't," Hank interrupted. "You got us out of there."

"I almost didn't."

"Almost doesn't count, not for this," Hank insisted. "You did it. And…" he hesitated for a moment, trying to figure out how to say what Mike probably needed to hear. "And even if you hadn't, it wouldn't have been your fault," he said finally. "It wouldn't have been anyone's fault. Everybody did their jobs right, but the winds changed. It was just…rotten luck. And you know something? I wouldn't have wanted anybody else behind the wheel when it happened."

"Not even yourself?"

Hank shook his head. "Nah. Too much pressure," he joked, hoping to lighten the mood. "I'll leave that to the young guys like you."

Mike was still pale underneath the soot covering his face, but Hank was relieved to see his lips curling a little in response, the way they usually did whenever he played up the "grizzled old captain" angle. In reality, Mike was only a few years younger than he was - and headed for Captain soon himself. Hank knew he'd be a great one.

"I mean it, Mike," Hank added more seriously. "You were the best person for the job."

Mike turned to look at him at last, his blue eyes stormy, but maybe, just maybe, there was a break in the clouds.

"Thanks, Cap," he said softly.

Hank smiled in answer, but when Mike frowned a little, Hank figured that some of his own weariness must have shown through.

"Are _you_ okay, Cap?"

Hank sorted softly and held out his hand so that Mike could see the faint tremor starting in his muscles.

Mike eyed him for a moment, understanding flickering over his features.

"It was close," he echoed.

"Yeah," Hank agreed. "Too close."

He ran a hand over his face again, probably leaving it even more streaked than before, then let his hand drop into his lap and glanced at the watch on his wrist. They needed to get moving - John and Roy were expecting them, and he wouldn't put it past his paramedics to send out a search party if they didn't turn up soon. But Hank figured that Mike could use a few more minutes to himself before he faced their well-meaning crewmates' attention, and honestly, he could too.

So, for the moment, Hank just leaned his head back against the metal behind him, Mike's shoulder brushing his, a silent but solid presence at his side.

Once again, his gaze drifted over to the fire in the distance…the fire that could have taken his life and the lives of his crew. Chances were, they would be back out there fighting it as soon as John and Roy gave them the all-clear, and Hank had to admit that something in his gut churned at the thought of going head-to-head with that monster a second time.

But he would do it, and he knew Mike would too, and so would Chet and Marco. Each of them would put his own fears aside do whatever was asked of him.

Because really, when it came right down to it, that's what firefighters did.

 **Fin**

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A/N: My heartfelt gratitude to all of the real-life firefighters out there who battle wildfires to save lives and property. As someone who lives in a wildfire-prone area of the country, thank you just doesn't seem like enough.

Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think!

Take care and God bless!

Ani-maniac494 :)


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